Help me be Lionel's forever person.

This is the most selfish, entitled, and frivolous thing I can imagine asking for. There are wars raging on in the world, and climate change, and political dumpster fires. Plus, asking for help or money generally makes me queasy - although I have no problem asking for the same on behalf of others, so I'll do my best to frame this fundraiser around Lionel (he is, as always, the star of the show).

To tell this story, though, we have to start at the beginning, and understand some of the broader context.

A little about the horse industry, and more specifically, Dressage. The horse industry is kind of a microcosm of broader societal and socio economic shifts in the US and the world. In the 20th century, as rural lifestyles dwindled horses moved out of the backyards of farmers and ranchers, and into the idle lives of the wealthy, who enjoyed the sporting culture. The horse industry shifted from an amateur's past time or a military skill set to a thriving elite sport. High end facilities and all manner of trainers, products and schools of thought sprung up as competitive riders sought ever more intricate paths to success in the show ring.

Today, there are billionaires running breeding and training operations, as well as show grounds. They control who becomes a judge, who sits on the boards of the FEI (the international equestrian governing body for the sport) and are often in the ring or family members of those who compete. This industrialization has lead to cut throat practices from insurance and sales fraud to abuse in order to move horses up the levels faster to flawed breeding practices that cause horses to breakdown. The industry draws people and animals in alike, presses them for all they're worth, and spits them out, broken, battered, traumatized.

And then, in the midst of all this, there is someone like me. Born in northwest Philadelphia, a scrappy kid who just knew she loved horses, beyond all reason. There was a city barn I could walk to, where I could work off the cost of my lessons, and was given access to ride for hours, wild and unsupervised - how rare a thing today. Most people entering the horse industry come from money, or at the very least have family who are also involved (vets, trainers, farriers etc). I had neither, and so finding my way into the world of horse training I had to rely solely on my developing skills, and my grit and perseverance.

Persevere I did, and luckily, throughout my life, other horse people saw themselves in me, and gave me opportunities. Throughout my twenties I continued to work in exchange for lessons, but now with classical masters or International level dressage competitors. They put me on their trained horses, and helped me to feel those delicate and magical sensations of collection and upper level work. I put my blood sweat and tears into every horse I was given access to, slowly transforming them for the better.

I bought my first horse at 25, which is very late for anyone attempting to ride or train professionally. Keep in mind, most young riders have horses purchased for them by parents as kids or teens, which allows them to move up the levels of the competition world, making a record and a name for themselves. My mare had three clear gaits: walk, trot, and bolt, and had a habit of bucking people off at the mounting block. Before her untimely death due to impaction colic, she gave birth to my current horse, a lovely, complicated mare, whose very existence is thanks to breeding donation from a kind former employer, who saw my striving and wanted to give me a shot at access to a world quality horse. For this I will always be grateful.

So with my personal horses I continued on my path of learning wherever I could, and I discovered Philippe Karl's Ecole de Legerete. This translates directly to School of Lightness or School of Ease. This was so different from the meat grinder style training I saw in many upper level horses. Instead of trying to find a horse who could withstand the rigors of the upper level work, Legerete riders sought to develop each individual horse as best they could; addressing emotional, physical and behavioral needs meant that they could reach even the highest levels of work with very ordinary horses. This kindness and alternative path spoke to me, and I began to connect with clients and a community that felt the same.

This work eventually lead me to my current position, where I am the head trainer at a private facility. Though the purpose has always been to import and resell horses, when I arrived there was much to be addressed. Several of the horses had needs that weren't being met, and I spent a number of years doing so - tweaking nutrition and herd management, giving them cognitive behavioral skills so they could function in new and show environments, adjusting tack, tailoring training protocols. Here is where I met our hero, Lionel.

Talented, but a bit behind in his training, Lionel was initially quite dead to the leg. Bored and overflexed, though pretty, he was not particularly interested in his training. Bit by bit, I invited him out of his shell, until he began to look forward to the work. Today, if another horse works before him he is visibly jealous. Likewise, if he has someone who is not me riding him for a lesson he flops his ears down and sometimes attempts to take a nap. Along the way he began to associate this better way of working with me.

Each day, I try to ride Lionel either first or last, so that I can start or end on a good note. He makes me smile, and I make his body feel elastic, and his mind feel relaxed. He is also very bonded to my mare, whom he adores.

I can't imagine selling him, uprooting him from his happy life, and entrusting him to strangers. Would they know he only likes hot showers, even when it's 90 degrees outside? Will they know he coughs twice before he sneezes and then he's ready to work? Will they know not to leave him til last in turnout order, or he'll be terribly upset? It would feel like an insurmountable betrayal. And yet, I've done my job, I've trained the horse...and now he is priced far beyond my means.

It is time to begin to market Lionel, as he approaches Prix St. Georges, the first FEI level of training. That's the way this business works. But how can you compare a living, breathing animal to a profit margin? Don't get me wrong, I have sold other horses. I have known I wasn't their forever person, I wasn't their best match, and I've sought out those partnerships. It's been bittersweet, but it doesn't compare to the heartbreak I feel when I think about Lionel leaving. I want to be the person that keeps him cozy as a shaggy old man. I want to see him retired and happy in his golden years. I want to know that he won't be forced into unnatural positions, pushed beyond his physical best interests, in order to compete. Because he's generous, he'd try to the point of breaking, and many others wouldn't think twice to push him that far.

So, that brings me to the here and now. Against all logic, and against my better judgement, I allow myself a little bit of hope to reach out to all of you. Friends, family, horse diaspora. Help me help Lionel. Let him stay in the home and training he knows and loves. His price tag is high, but it's bargain compared to what he means to me. I see in him a partnership and a future, a daily dose of joy. And by all means, please go out and support worthy causes, give $5 to a charity to stop hunger, or a peace mission.

But consider giving one dollar, maybe to change the course of Lionel's life. Make it possible to keep an upper level horse for a trainer who became a trainer against all odds. Tell the billionaires someone from the working class might just be able to compete in their sport, even playing by their rules. Tell the abusers you don't need force or coercion to do it. Let there be some hope for goodness and redemption for the horse industry. Let Lionel and I be an example, a Cinderella story. Let a little girl see him at a show, or training in a Legerete clinic, and let her dream of the feeling of riding something so magical. Please share this far and wide, help me make this possibility a reality.